


Black-Hole Cosmology

by MythicallySnappy



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Angst, Multiverse Theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicallySnappy/pseuds/MythicallySnappy
Summary: Sometimes, Rhett gets consumed by the multiverse.





	

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
>  [[img](http://thespiritscience.net/2015/09/22/scientists-show-how-parallel-universes-overlap-and-affect-our-own/)]
> 
> GMM 988 put me in such a weird headspace, man. This all poured out of me in a couple hours while incredibly jet-lagged and listening to MGMT's album _Oracular Spectacular_. This is just a little drabble, but I figured I'd share.
> 
> And as always, thanks to my always wonderful and sometimes too-encouraging little salty beetas, [@pringlesaremydivision](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision) and [@amanderjean](http://archiveofourown.org/users/amanderjean/pseuds/amanderjean)!

     Sometimes, Rhett gets consumed by the multiverse.

     It always comes on fast and hard, the uncontrollable rush of thoughts and mental images; the feeling that he’s just one pawn in an intergalactic game of chess; that another version of himself is having the same breakdown and spiralling into the same black hole. He’ll coop himself up in the office with his head in his hands, loving and hating the endless iterations of himself stretching to infinity, each one exactly like him but slightly different, too.

     In one world, he’s a scientist on the cusp of a breakthrough in clean energy and in another he’s living on a sailboat somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico, and he’s certain; he’s positive, that each version of himself is as real as he is. He’s a paleontologist. A dairy farmer or a monster truck driver. And he _knows_ that they’re real because he can _feel_ them sometimes, when the fabric of time and space wears a little thin here and there. And when Rhett gets like this, Link comes into the office with his brows knit together in concern, perched on his heels, bent down and desperate to try and make eye contact long enough to bring Rhett back firmly and securely back to this world.

     Link is the perfect comfort— Rhett knows he’s his lab partner or his first mate or his dig director or a livestock veterinarian or his monster truck mechanic. Always his perfect complement, his other half.

     Link’s got one hand on Rhett’s knee and the other on the side of his face, his fingers woven into his beard, and Rhett knows, he just _knows_ , that there’s a universe where he’d reach out and cup Link’s cheeks and kiss him hard on the mouth. There’s a world where they’d shed their shirts so quickly that it’d make his head spin, his fingers would flick across Link’s perfect pink nipples, and his mouth would swallow the delicious little moans that he’d make. There’s a world where he’d take Link right there on the office floor, his hands gripped fast around his writhing little waist, watching the smooth, tanned skin of his stomach tense as he’d enter him, dark hair in perfect disarray across his sticky forehead.

     He knows there’s a universe where they’d be together on the high seas, and instead of the ship going down, Rhett would, in the cabin of their schooner. Link’s hands would twist in the sheets and he’d throw his head back, as Rhett would work him over; his rope-callused hands rough but his touch gentle, and his lips and tongue even gentler still. There’s a world where the salt of sea spray and the salt of Link’s skin would just be synonymous with one another, his love for the ocean and the man in his bed would seep into each other and when Link’s fingernails would dig into his scalp he’d know he was close and he’d dive further in before Link would let himself go with the force of a category-5 hurricane.

     There’s a world where they’d never quite made it to stardom, humble engineers in Raleigh. They’d share an apartment— a nice one— but Rhett would never entirely get used to the looks of scorn they’d receive as they’d walk down the city sidewalks in tandem— never quite brave enough to hold hands but still brushing elbows at every chance they’d get. That’s the universe where Rhett would collapse on the bed when they’d get home, the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes as he’d try to forget the _tsks_ and _tuts_ that would plague them in every public place. Link would press tiny kisses into his ear, his soft palms smoothing over his shoulders and stomach, and he’d always manage to make Rhett forget about how much he hated the place with his sharp little teeth and velvety tongue. There’s a world where Link would slide off the bed and hook Rhett’s legs over his shoulders, kissing each freckle and tiny mole on the way up the inside of his thighs, before lapping tirelessly at his sex and his opening, until Rhett wouldn’t be able to think about much of anything at all.

     Rhett knows there’s a universe where they make internet videos, sure, but they’re rarely clothed and rarely behind a desk. A universe where their studio is stark and white, hot lights and satin sheets, leather couches and kitchen counters. A world with drawers full of bright silicone toys and a cupboard full of lubricants. Where they’d show up on set in white robes and walk off without them, wearing nothing but a sheen of sweat and a rosy blush. A world where Weird Objects You Must Have wouldn’t come from eBay and Link wouldn’t be gagging on food for a Will It? episode. Where every episode is a Clothes Off.

     Rhett’s sure these worlds exist, and sometimes when he zones out he’s certain that there’s been a warp in the space time continuum and he can almost see Link splayed out, legs spread wide and lips raw and red. But they’re just flashes. Just glimpses into another universe. Echoes of a parallel world. Shadows.

     But in this world, he doesn’t lean forward to crash his lips against Link’s. He blinks hard— once, twice— and shakes his head.

     “You in there, buddy?” Link asks. Rhett takes a deep breath and looks around. It’s their office and it’s familiar.  
     “Ye—yeah,” he spits out, the weight of reality slamming into him. Link smiles when he knows he’s got Rhett back— _his_ Rhett— and brings himself to his feet.  
     “Alright, man,” Link says, giving his shoulder a quick pat. He gently lobs a set of keys at Rhett, whose hand reflexively snatches them out of the air. “I’ve gotta get home ASAP. Lily’s got gymnastics tonight and I told Christy I’d grill some barbecue.”

     Rhett swallows the lump in his throat and nods, gingerly raising himself out of his office chair. This is the real world, or at least he’s pretty sure it is.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this mini ficlet, and as always, comments, kudos, critique and questions are incredibly valuable and loved so much.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [@ratchetrhink](http://ratchetrhink.tumblr.com)!


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